A Gentlemen's Agreement (Slave of the Aristocracy)

by Ashley Zacharias

  When she made it all the way around the room and was, once again, at the open door to the kennels, she paused and thought for a minute. It was unlikely that Nickel would dare return to the kennel this time. If she were caught in her cell, ditching the second entertainment in a row, she might well be locked inside and left to die of starvation.

  Then Irene realized her mistake. Nickel would have seen the pink light approaching and stepped out of the way.

  This time, Irene put her left hand up to her collar to cover her pink light while she let her right hand trail along the wall.

  She turned one corner and traversed the length of the room to the second corner. There she bumped into a warm body. A body with breasts that pressed against hers. A female body with no light on the collar.

  She reached out and grabbed Nickel’s wrist and pulled her hand down to let the red light shine like a tiny beacon.

  “Not doing our part, are we, whiphand?” Irene whispered into her ear. “Come with me and let me introduce you to a few nice gentlemen.”

  Nickel didn’t dare resist when Irene pulled her into the sensuous, slow-motion mêlée in progress on the mats.

  When they were in the middle of the orgy, Irene whispered, “You better get yourself fucked but good because, the next time I lick your cunt, I expect taste a hell of a lot of semen in there. If not, I’m going to have Lord Snow cane your ass into raw hamburger.”

  Nickel began to slide away, but Irene pulled her back and added, “And at the end of the entertainment, I’m going to smell your breath. You better have a serious case of penis breath, too, or you’ll have cause to regret your indolence.” She released her, but kept watching the red light on her collar to make sure that it stayed visible and stayed in the vicinity of a white gentleman’s wristband.

  Her duty done, Irene scanned the floor looking for one light in particular. Lord Snow’s wristband had been fitted with a light that slowly cycled from pale blue to pure white to dusty yellow and back. The change in shade was unlikely to be noticed unless a person knew to look for it.

  Irene spotted it at the edge of the mêlée close to the interior door. That made sense. Lord Snow had entered after his guests and had not moved far.

  She made her way to him in a slow shuffle, avoiding stepping on the male and female stars.

  She brushed against an appendage – a foot – and a hand groped at her chest, managed to find a tit, and squeezed it. “Join us,” a man commanded.

  There were already two stars clustered about him – green and yellow – that would be Apple and Tamarind. The man was a glutton for fruit. She thought that it was the marquette’s voice but didn’t bother feeling for his goatee. She took his hand from her breast, kissed it warmly, and then placed it on Tamarind at the level of her waist and moved away, turning so that the light on her collar faced away from him.

  Someone was already offering her service to Lord Snow. This wouldn’t have been the first time that he was serviced tonight; it was already more than half an hour into the entertainment.

  The star’s light was dark blue. One of the borrowed slaves.

  Irene knelt beside him and began feeling the lord’s body. He was lying on his back. She felt the slave’s hair hanging over his hips. She was ministering to him with her mouth. She removed the slave’s hand from the root of his cock and replaced it with hers. Then she stroked upward, pushing the slave’s mouth off his shaft and head.

  The slave understood that Irene was cutting in and didn’t object. There was no shortage of cock that needed sucking in this room.

  Lord Snow made a disappointed whimpering sound but Irene cut that short by swirling her tongue around the head of his dick.

  His whimper turned to a contented sigh.

  Then she straddled his hips and lowered her cunt over his cock. It felt wonderful to finally have a man inside her again.

  As soon as she was deeply impaled, he began to thrust into her, almost lifting her knees off the floor with his powerful body.

  She dragged her fingers along his chest and up his neck to find his face, then she put her finger across his lips. He understood that she was not shushing his mouth – he wasn’t saying anything – but was quieting his body.

  He stopped thrusting, curious to see what would happen.

  She didn’t move. She began massaging his cock with her cunt muscles.

  He gasped in pleasure at the sensation. He had never felt anything like it.

  The other slaves had been working out with their cunt weights and were developing some strength, but none of them were nearly as strong as Irene. And none of them had anywhere near her control.

  Now, when they fucked a man, they knew to add to his stimulation by squeezing him as he thrust. And the gentlemen appreciated them as expert lovers – certainly more expert than their wives or even their own slaves.

  But Irene was in a different league altogether.

  Lord Snow had never before felt anything like he was feeling now. Irene wasn’t just squeezing him, she was milking him, rolling the pressure along his shaft from her outer lips to deep in her vagina in slow waves.

  In a moment, he was mewling like a newborn kitten, completely in thrall to her sensual magic.

  She, in turn, was ecstatic to feel a man penetrating her, deep and strong, after a long drought. Her breasts were heaving in the darkness as she drew great, deep breaths and exhaled in long, musical sighs.

  She slowly ground her clit against his pubic bone and massaged her g-spot with his rigid cock. Her swollen inner lips were pressed hard against the root of his great shaft by her contractions.

  She reached a plateau of arousal that was almost painful, so exquisitely delightful the sensations from vulva to cervix, and hung there using her mighty concentration to keep from tripping over that last threshold until, at long last, she felt the man inside her pulse and pulse and fill her with his thick, rich cream.

  She screamed when she came. Screamed like a demon from the pit of hell. Screamed like a runaway locomotive. Screamed to banish the unbearable frustration of months of forced celibacy.

  Her screams had not yet faded when she collapsed on top of Lord Snow in a fog of pure joy.

  She lay there, feeling his smooth, muscular chest against her full, round breasts. Feeling his thighs caress the inside of hers. Feeling his manhood slowly shrink and withdraw from her.

  She rolled her face upward, found his lips, and kissed him.

  A slave never kisses a gentleman. She lets the gentleman kiss her if he pleases and only then does she respond in kind. But she never dares to take the initiative and force the intimate embrace on him.

  Most gentlemen don’t kiss slaves.

  But the slave, Irene, kissed Lord Snow and he kissed her back. It was long and deep and inexpressibly intimate. Far more intimate than the love that they had just consummated.

  When they unlocked their lips, Irene laid her head on his shoulder and hugged him as tightly as she could, pressing the entire length of her body against his, loving every inch of contact.

  “My God,” he said. “That was incredible. I never felt anything like that before. That was pure art.”

  She said nothing. Stars had no voice. And she had no intention of revealing her identity by speaking aloud. She wriggled against him, endeavoring to snuggle even deeper into his arms.

  “James was a fool not to buy you when he had the chance,” Lord Snow said quietly.

  She stiffened. She was the fool to think that she could outwit her owner. Then, because the jig was up, but she wasn’t ready to concede defeat, she relaxed and began to massage his pectoral muscles, slowly and silently, working the tension from him with her fingertips.

  She had never enjoyed a man in this way before. Not her husband, nor her former owner, nor his guests. But it felt natural and she didn’t have to think about how to do it. She just did it.

  After a bit, Lord Snow’s breathing slowed to a long, regular rhythm. He wasn’t asleep, but he was as relaxed as she had ev
er seen him.

  He didn’t protest when she slipped out of his loose grasp and silently stole away into the darkness.

  She scanned the lights to make sure that the red star was glowing somewhere next to a gentleman’s bracelet. It was bobbing in a steady beat. She didn’t know if that was Nickel’s head bobbing over a hot cock or if Nickel were on her hands and knees being rocked by a determined buggering. She didn’t care. As long as a man was penetrating her in some fashion, Nickel was being useful.

  Later, when the action began to fade and more lights were resting quietly on the mattresses than bobbing around in dynamic constellations, she located the two yellow star-lights at opposite sides of the room. She went to one, found the lady’s hand, raised her to her feet, and led her to the door to the kennels. Then she did the same with the other.

  Once both ladies were in the tunnel, she closed the door and then lit an electric lantern. The light was not bright, but all three of them squinted and blinked under the sudden assault on their eyes.

  Irene took the opportunity to re-don her black catsuit.

  The naked ladies started tittering and whispering.

  Irene shushed them and whispered, “Keep quiet until we get back to the kennel.”

  When they were again in the pleasure room, Irene shut the door. “Was the entertainment to your satisfaction?” she asked at a normal volume, indicating that it was safe to talk.

  Lady Linda and Lady Kaitlin looked at each other and grinned.

  “That was incredible,” Linda said.

  Kaitlin squeezed her own buttock. “Thank god you warned me to prepare my ass. Thank god I took your advice. I can’t believe that I let myself get buggered. Twice. I think it was two different men.” She wriggled her behind. “I still feel all loose and slippery back there.”

  “I didn’t,” Linda said. “Not this time. But I sucked three cocks. I think it was a different one each time. And then I let each one of them fuck me. I never realized how much men like going at a woman doggy style. I didn’t get fucked the regular way even once.”

  “I did. I just laid on my back and let them find me and have a go at me. One after another. Bang, bang, bang. I got fucked more in one night than I had in the whole last year. God, I’m going to be sore tomorrow. I won’t let Tim into my bedroom for a week.”

  Lord Timothy Granger hadn’t been at the entertainment. Nor had Lord Hoffman. If they had, Irene would have kept the ladies out. Nobody could risk having ladies discovered by their husbands. Even the least attentive husband could be expected to distinguish between his own wife and an anonymous slave in the dark.

  Irene had certainly been identified by Lord Snow easily enough. And he had never made love to her before.

  “Okay, ladies, let’s get you dressed and get your hair pinned up. I have to get you away before I go back in there and end the entertainment.”

  Her two ex-friends continued giggling and chattering about their exploits all the way to their car.

  As they were getting in, Kaitlin said, “Thank you so much, Irene. This has been like a miracle.”

  Linda hugged her tight and said, “I regret so much that you sold yourself, Irene. But I think, tonight, I see why you did it. It’s incredibly exciting.”

  Irene hugged her back. “It’s not always exciting. Mostly it’s boring. And my life will be a lot shorter as a slave. I can expect to die as a labor slave before I reach fifty. Probably before I reach forty-five. But, at least I will have lived before I die. When I was a lady, I never felt like I was really alive.”

  “Don’t say that. Don’t talk about death tonight. Tonight is about life.”

  Irene smiled. “Tonight is about fun.”

  “Life should be fun,” Linda said.

  Then she got into her car and drove off into the night.

  Irene breathed a sigh of relief. So many things could have gone so wrong. It was a miracle that she had not been discovered. Now she could return to the entertainment without worrying about being tortured to death by a bevy of furious aristocrats.

  Before she entered to the billiard room, she pressed a button that was mounted beside the door. Then she stepped inside and waited.

  After a minute, a spotlight began to glow faintly. She positioned her head in the center of the beam and waited until while it slowly increased in intensity.

  When it was bright enough, it began to expand to display her whole body encased in the shiny black catsuit.

  The slaves took their cue and whispered their farewells to the gentlemen around them and then rose from the mattresses and filed back toward the kennels.

  The houselights were still dark so the gentlemen never did get a clear look at the slaves who had serviced them. The best they got was glimpses of silhouettes as they passed in front of the spot that illuminated Irene.

  When Irene saw Nickel walk past with the red light glowing on her collar, she pulled her into the spotlight and gave her a long kiss on the lips.

  The gentlemen hooted and clapped.

  She tasted the salty flavor of semen on Nickel’s lips. “You saved yourself a caning, penis breath,” she said and pushed her toward the door.

  When the last slave cleared the door, the houselights began slowly coming up.

  “Gentlemen, I hope that you enjoyed our stars on this midsummer night.”

  Irene couldn’t see if the gentlemen were nodding or shaking their heads, but she was relieved to hear a few of them mutter happy sentiments. She wasn’t going to starve this time.

  Someone said, loudly, “It was a midsummer night dream.”

  He got it.

  Someone else said, “The only woman I fuck in the dark is my wife. This was better.”

  Gentlemen laughed in agreement.

  “Even my own slaves don’t work me like these did,” a third voice said. “I don’t know how they do it, but Lord Snow could lend them out to other kennels to give lessons.”

  “I’d like to borrow one,” another voice said.

  “Me, too.”

  “We’ll have to see about that,” Lord Snow said from the back of the room.

  Irene could hear that he was forcing a cheerful tone in his voice. He had a tiger by the tail. He didn’t want to give his secrets away to every kennel in the county. But he couldn’t refuse to do a favor for the gentlemen in the room, either. Most of them outranked him.

  The lights were now bright enough for Irene to see the assembled gentlemen. They had been lying with the slaves when she called time but they were standing now.

  “Gentlemen, it is my custom to ask my lord’s guests to vote on their satisfaction at the end of an entertainment. I strive to provide more pleasure to you than you usually experience in an evening. If the majority of you think that I have failed in that goal, then I will be punished with an enforced three-day fast. I will be sent directly to my cell to be confined without food until Wednesday breakfast.

  “If any gentleman thinks that he did not receive more pleasure tonight than he receives from the usual entertainment, please raise your hand now and send me to my cell to starve for the next three days.”

  She was shocked to see three hands drift into the air. Two of the gentlemen were standing in the part of the room where she had left Nickel. The third hand was Lord Snow’s.

  The gentlemen looked around and saw who had their hands raised. One of the men voting for punishment was Marquette Kelly. He shrugged and said, “It was good. But I can’t say that it was the best that I ever had. The service felt decidedly perfunctory toward the end.”

  One other gentleman frowned and belatedly raised his hand in agreement.

  “Anyone else?” Irene asked. “Then that makes four votes out of fifteen against me. Not a majority, but I will consider myself rebuked. It’s not enough to merit three days of starvation, but I will ask Lord Snow to administer the strap to me to ensure that, next time I will strive to do better. He does know how to make a slave regret her failure.”

  The men lowered their hands.r />
  After Lord Snow led the gentlemen back to their wives, Irene retreated to her cell and stripped off her catsuit. She had had a wonderful time. The two ladies had had a wonderful time. More than two-thirds of the gentlemen had had a wonderful time. But it galled her that even four men had claimed that they had enjoyed other entertainments more than hers.

  She counted that as a defeat. Lord Snow was an expert at bruising a backside with his strap. She had seen the evidence of that on three of his slaves since she had arrived. She didn’t want to suffer the same, but she believed that she deserved it.

  Lord Snow came to her cell some time later, after he had bid his guests a good evening.

  “Would you like to strap me now?” Irene asked.

  “No. I’m not going to strap you,” he replied. “Both the marquette and I agreed that you failed to provide a better than average entertainment tonight. In my manor, his vote and mine together constitute a majority. I’ll instruct the kennelman give you a bucket and a pint of water in the morning.”

  He stepped out of the cell and closed the door.

  She didn’t have to try the knob. She’d heard the lock click.

  A moment later, the lights went out, leaving her sitting on her cot in pitch blackness.

  She had eaten only lightly at dinner, being too nervous about the entertainment that she had planned.

  Her stomach was already growling.

  * * *

  The kennelman had been brusque. Quick glance to see if Irene was still breathing, dump an empty bucket into the cell, and throw a plastic bottle of water on the bed.

  The door was closed and locked again before her eyes had time to adjust to the light. She had to keep them closed for the entire fifteen seconds and had not even seen the kennelman’s face.

  She spent her time sitting in the dark, trying to make herself stop thinking about the unfairness of her punishment. Fair wasn’t a consideration in a slave’s life. There was no fair and unfair, only that which a slave would endure and that which would kill her. She told herself that three days of starvation wasn’t going to kill her so it was merely another trial to be endured.

  She told her empty belly to be still and stop growing at her like a hungry beast in the dark.